Stake Me Out
by c-r-roberts
Summary: A Prequel to Enhanced Interrogation Techniques. (That should be read after it. If that makes sense.) FBI Agent Peeta Mellark goes on a stake out. And ends up with Katniss Everdeen in his interrogation room.


_A/N: This is technically a prequel to **Enhanced Interrogation Techniques**, but if you have any interest in reading that, I highly suggest you read it before reading this. That being said, Stake Me Out works as a stand alone too.  
_

_Disclaimer: An M rating, Peeta as an FBI agent, and an incredibly reluctant Katniss Everdeen ahead. _

* * *

Abernathy is fucking with her.

He must be.

Katniss stews, waiting in the unmarked car, tapping her foot impatiently, just wanting to go and get this over with already.

But her _partner_ is five minutes late.

She finally sees him strolling over to her nonchalantly, dressed in his standard dress shirt and tie, his blue eyes smiling and his golden locks pushed back just off his forehead, illuminated only by the spot lights of the intake lot.

"Fancy seeing you here, Everdeen." Agent Mellark leans through the passenger window of the car, flashing her his signature winning grin.

Katniss sighs, annoyed enough as it is without him trying to be cute. Special Agent Abernathy is definitely fucking with her, pairing her up with Mellark for one of the final tests culminating their training at Quantico. Like 17 weeks of Agent Peeta Mellark being annoyingly smart and practically perfect in every way hasn't been exasperating enough.

She scowls at him, turning the ignition, the engine purring to life.

"Just get in the car, Peeta."

Katniss watches with disdain as Peeta slides into the passenger seat with ease, his eyes gleaming as he gives her a once over. "You ready for our all-nighter?"

_Ugh._

Katniss was already annoyed at the idea of having to take a tactical exam about staking something out in the first place—because honestly, who doesn't know how to hide in plain sight and look for things—but the icing on the cake was Abernathy telling her he wanted her and Mellark to do this one together.

Throughout the course of their FBI training, he's by far been her biggest competition.

And also by far the hottest agent in their entering class.

She's certain his penchant for flashing those stupidly suggestive smiles in her direction all the time are just another one of his tactics for trying to throw her off her game. They've been back and forth as number one and two in their class—Katniss acing firearms and shooting tactics, with Peeta killing her in court room testimony and suspect interview techniques. Although none of that comes as a surprise; she's a perfect shot and he's the master manipulator of words.

After tonight, all that's left is finishing up their respective long-term case studies before they graduate to field agents. Katniss is assigned to a team of agents who've spent the past month building their fictional case against a pretend human trafficking operation, while Peeta's working the mother of all black widow cases.

She and Peeta are completely different on almost every level—she's fiery and impulsive, and he's got this icy cool about him that drives her insane. Abernathy probably threw them together for this assignment just for his own personal amusement. As one of their most involved instructors, he's completely aware that the two of them have not exactly gotten along with one another in the past.

And recently, it's gotten much worse between them. It'd started out as a mutual, respectful contempt for one another; a healthy competition that kept her driven. And although Katniss would never admit it out loud, the air between them has changed, and it's turned into them doing this strange, flirtatious dance around one another. Which is no good, because Katniss really needs to focus on her training and her testing, and not how Agent Mellark's firm build fills out his dress shirt.

So she doesn't respond to his question with anything but another scowl and the shift of the car into drive, peeling off fast enough that Peeta's head jerks into the back of the seat and he reaches for his seat belt.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, looking at her like she's insane.

_Fuck_ is right. Tonight is going to be miserable. But she smirks anyway, liking the ability to keep Mellark on his toes.

* * *

"Want some?" he asks her, holding out his bag of Sour Patch Kids to her as he chews.

Katniss wrinkles her nose, reaching for her coffee cup in the console holder instead.

"Gross. No thanks."

This is what happens when they stop to get provisions at the gas station before heading over to the stake out location—she buys a coffee and he loads up with candy.

Peeta shrugs, popping a red little person into his mouth.

"Suit yourself."

They're staking out what's supposed to be some high level drug operation. In reality, it's all made up, with actors and props—they're even only allowed to be armed with paint guns, which obviously don't feel or shoot like the real thing, irking Katniss. Two other teams of agents are posted elsewhere, also tasked with the same assignment for the night. Madge and Hawthorne are supposed to be staked out on the rooftop of a building down the street. And Cato and Marvel are around the corner, on foot. Though everything can change at a moment's notice, depending on how the sting goes down. There are so many variables—who's dealing, how many people are dealing, what kind of protection they've brought along, how many guns they have. Whether Hawthorne, Marvel and Cato will stop horsing around on the radios, using them to crack crude jokes. And really, whether Cato and Marvel are capable of not screwing up everything they put their hands on.

So while she and Mellark currently sit idle in a hidden alley with the engine cut, they could theoretically end up elsewhere and mobile at a moment's notice.

But at this particular moment, absolutely _nothing_ is happening. It's after midnight, and they've been out here for over two hours now. And she's so bored even Cato's horrible jokes are starting to be funny. But instead of gorging on candy or calling her team members _douche bags_ over the radio, Katniss just continues to sip her coffee, even though it's cold.

And she tries not to be bothered by Agent Mellark's presence. Really, Katniss has held up better than she thought she would, spending two hours in a car alone with Peeta. Even with his looks and his charm and his ability to unwillingly make her cheeks flush with a smile. Not that she smiles back, of course. But he's a better partner than she thought he'd be, if only because he hasn't annoyed her yet.

Though that doesn't mean she's still not annoyed.

Katniss sighs, staring down the dark alley they're parked in, but still seeing nothing. Occasional chatter on the radio confirms it's dead activity for everyone, too. Seriously, would it kill their instructors to send in a random drug addict or something, just to break up the tediousness?

She hears Peeta's chuckle and turns her head to him, narrowing her eyes accusingly.

"What?"

He shakes his head at her, deciding to put his bag of candy down, brushing his hands of the excess sugar.

"You need to relax. They're purposely trying to make us impatient. It's part of the test."

Katniss considers him, with his eyes that twinkle in the moonlight and his lopsided, knowing grin.

He's right.

She hates that he's right.

It's like the opposite of a stake out. The instructors are trying to smoke them out, not allowing their bad guys to kick into action until their students are good and bored—and hopefully, weary and less observant.

She should have been able to figure that out for herself.

So Katniss slumps into the driver's seat with a frustrated sigh, folding her arms across her chest.

Peeta chuckles again, still good naturedly.

"You're stuck with me for a while longer, Everdeen. Might as well just embrace it."

He earns another stare, but it just makes him grin wider until she finally sighs, eyeing his provisions.

"Got anything with chocolate?"

Peeta nods.

"Of course."

And he digs into the bag, handing her a miniature Snickers, which she accepts with a reluctant smile.

"Thanks."

The look he gives her makes her heart skip a beat.

"Anything for you."

* * *

After another 45 minutes, her eyelids are drooping, although she's trying hard to fight through it. And she sees Peeta shift uncomfortably in his seat, fiddling with its position and tugging at the knot in his tie, loosening it off his neck.

She smirks, keeping her gaze straight ahead down the alley they're parked in, overlooking the main street they're suspecting their drug dealers to frequent any time now. Although, so far, there's only been one random straggler, a person they immediately pegged as a harmless homeless man.

"Careful there, you want to look perfect as always for when we catch the bad guys, right?"

She feels his eyes on her but doesn't return his gaze.

"Says the girl who's never not worn a pants suit."

Katniss scoffs, bothered enough to actually look at him. Glare, really.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He grins dryly.

"Nothing. Other than you could stand to loosen up a little bit."

"Yes, because everyone wants a fast and loose FBI Agent," she snips, whipping her head back away from him, back to front and center. Her braid whacks the middle of her back as she does.

She hears Peeta chuckle.

"Yes, because that's exactly what I meant. You're really something else, Everdeen, you know that?"

Katniss bites her bottom lip, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head.

Agent Peeta Mellark doesn't know the first thing about her.

"What?" he reacts to her displeasure with an impish smirk. "All I'm saying is that you're a knock out. And sometimes I imagine you wearing…_other _types of clothing."

Katniss's eyes go wide, not quite trusting her ears.

It's so unprofessional she can't even fathom believing it.

"Did you just _hit _on me?" she practically shrieks.

Peeta chuckles. Half his lips quirk.

"So what if I did?"

"So _what_?! It's really fucking creepy, Mellark," she barks. They're on a stake out, it's one in the morning, and they're both Federal Agents, entrusted with some of the most important police work in the country.

And he's telling her that he _thinks _about her.

With his golden blonde hair that matches his angelic face and competes with the mischievous look in his eye and the crookedness of his grin.

And now she's all kinds of flustered.

And Peeta knows it.

"What's that they say about the lady doth protesting too much, Everdeen?"

She puts on her best scowl, hoping the night disguises the redness of her cheeks.

"I think they say that the _lady_ is a better shot than you and you better watch your back if you even think about saying something like that again."

Peeta cracks up, genuinely amused. And it's so ludicrous and his laugh is so contagious that she has to suppress a chuckle of her own in order to maintain her frown.

"All right, Katniss, you have a deal," he agrees as his laughter subsides. "I'll just keep my thoughts to myself from here on out."

She's exaggerating her exasperation and he's grinning slyly at her when it happens.

Just as they've become exactly what they've spent two hours trying not to be—distracted and unfocused on the task at hand—a car, driving very slowly and without its headlights, makes its way past the alley down the main street.

Instantly, she and Peeta spring into Agent mode, and Madge puts a call on the radio indicating they see movement from the sidewalks too.

Katniss and Peeta stay put, not wanting to spook their suspected criminals with the noise of the engine or unsuspected movement, instead keeping silent and alert with anticipation.

Out of their line of vision, a deal must go down, because Cato's voice indicates he and Marvel are going in for an arrest. And then, within seconds, the radio blows up, and Hawthorne's yelling for them to back off. And then there's more yelling they can hear from the street, and a car's tires squeal as someone peels the hell out of there.

"God damn it," Peeta grunts, slamming a hand down on the dashboard, surely aware that if they mess this up, their training scores could be affected.

But Katniss isn't about to let the dimwitted duo of Cato and Marvel ruin her—or even Peeta's—chances at top honors.

"Hold on," she says through gritted teeth as she revs the engine and kicks the car into gear.

Peeta looks at her with wide eyes, knowing perfectly well this probably isn't protocol, but he doesn't stop her.

Katniss pulls out of the alley with an impressive squeal of her own tires, speeding down the street, frustrated that their suspect car is already well ahead of them. She nimbly follows, and begins to gain rapidly. Peeta's senses kick into action, and he yells that they should not be doing this right now. But he follows his scolding up with telling her to try and cut them off by taking a short cut at the next side street, and she knows that they're in this one together now, regardless of what they should or should not be dong.

Her adrenaline is pumping as the car gets up to well over three times the limit on the street that's currently deserted save for a few prop cars parked on the sides. She cuts down the street Peeta tells her to, and just as Peeta predicted they would, they catch up with their guys.

They've cut them off, blocking their path of travel as she spins the car back on the main street, causing the suspects' vehicle to hit the brakes and go front end into a line of garbage cans on a tree lawn.

Peeta lets out an excited whoop, maybe thinking it's over, but Katniss knows better.

Because before either of them can react, still recovering from Katniss throwing the car into park and flinging them forward at the very sudden stop, three men are tumbling out of the other car, attempting to get away on foot.

She's out of the car steps before Peeta is.

And hits the ground running, not having bothered to turn the engine off or close the door behind her, only thinking to reach for her service—_erm, paint_—weapon at her belt as she chases after them down a different side street.

"Katniss, wait!" Peeta calls after her urgently, and she can hear him running hard behind her in an attempt to catch up, but she doesn't dare break her gaze from the figures who still have a good jump on her and are getting away. All three of them are dressed in black clothing, and they're wearing masks or hoods, making it impossible for her to gather any helpful identifying information if they get away now.

And she wants this catch. _Needs_ this catch.

Somewhere inside of her, Katniss knows she probably would have been instructed to stay put in the car and call for backup for another car to try and cut off the runners from a different angle, but her instincts got the best of her and she just bolted.

So here she is, chasing after three criminals, yelling at them to _stop! and put their hands up_, but no one's heeding her cries.

Until her better judgment is proven right and she sees one of the suspects turn over his shoulder, preparing to shoot as he runs. She tries to point her weapon at him, to the sound of Peeta yelling her name frantically, but the suspect beats her to it, firing at her well before she has the chance to return the favor.

She doesn't even get her round off; instead, she hits the ground on her back with a hard thud first.

And she's in a daze momentarily before she realizes that Agent Mellark is flush on top of her as she hits.

The paint ball hits the brick wall just behind them, having sailed well over their heads.

"Are you fucking crazy?" he hisses, his weight still crushing her chest, pinning her between him and the cold, hard asphalt. His blue eyes look wild, a mix of adrenaline and fear.

And concern.

She tries to suck in a breath, but the pressure of his body on hers makes it hard to breathe.

Peeta Mellark feels every bit as solid as he looks.

"Fuck, Peeta, I can't breathe," she groans, struggling under him.

"Too bad," he says sternly, shaking his head once.

His firm voice vibrates against her ear. "You're not going anywhere until back up arrives. You could have killed yourself! Or me."

She scowls, and he finally shifts his weight enough that he's not entirely suffocating her. At least not in the technical sense of the word. Because the physical proximity of Agent Mellark and their current position is overpowering her in a completely different way.

"It's just paint," she points out, trying not to focus on how close his face is to hers.

Peeta sighs, his eyes latching on to hers, and she could swear his hips shift, pressing into her ever so slightly.

"Yeah, well next time, it'll be bullets," he warns.

And the intensity of his voice combined with the look in his eyes and just the sheer _pressure_ of his weight makes her slightly dizzy. And never mind the throbbing in her shoulder blades from taking the brunt of her body's hit to the ground. The real ache is the one Peeta's causing between her legs.

And so Katniss reacts the only way she knows how.

Defensively.

"Mellark, seriously. Get off me."

She squirms, but it just makes him lean into her harder.

He exhales, actually having to exert energy to keep her down, and his breath is hot on her neck.

But he succeeds in stilling her.

Just not by his brute force. Instead, it's his expression suggesting he's been overcome with something even more urgent than keeping her safe that makes her stop squirming.

"Or you could just let me get you off."

Her jaw drops at his audacity, and instinctively, Katniss shrugs him off enough to send an elbow into his chest, enjoying the gasp of air he needs to take as a result and the subsequent relenting pressure on her upper body.

His eyes go wide with surprise, but it doesn't stop him from grinning back at her, still bracing her to the asphalt with a hand on her hip.

And though she knows she could probably twist out of his grasp officially now, she stays put. Because there's something alarmingly intriguing about Peeta's request. And the weight of his hands on her body, the piercing blue of his intense gaze.

But she still scowls, for good measure.

"You're so fucking dead, Peeta."

He smirks, leaning back into her, brushing his mouth to her ear.

"Prove it."

It sends a shiver up her spine, the purr of his voice on her sensitive skin. Her mind goes a hundred places it shouldn't; worrying about anything but where their suspects went.

And Peeta doesn't seem concerned about their test either at the moment, still hovering over her, breathing heavy and his eyes taunting her because he knows he's accomplished his desired effect.

Katniss swallows.

"Everdeen! Mellark!" A stern authoritative voice barks from back down the street, where their cruiser was haphazardly left behind.

It's Abernathy.

And he's _pissed._

Peeta scrambles to his feet, taking her hand and yanking her upright with a strong jerk, and they turn to face their instructor looking very much like two siblings caught fighting by their mother.

"Just what in the god damn hell were you two morons trying to do?"

His gray eyes cut through them, their sternness, and disappointment, visible even in the darkness of the night.

"Other than trying to get yourselves killed."

They're his star pupils. They should know better than this.

Well, Peeta _did_ know better than this. Katniss tries to hide her guilt.

Before she can even think about her response, Peeta speaks up.

"We almost had them, Abernathy. But my clumsy ass accidently tripped up Katniss as we chased, and they got their shot off before she could shoot at them."

Abernathy still eyes them skeptically, although he seems open to more explanation. So Peeta keeps going, his lies now encouraged.

"It's my fault. If I hadn't have stumbled, she would have had them. Or one of them, at least."

And with that, Abernathy has had enough.

"What about the part where you should have stayed fucking put in your fucking car and called for back up?

Peeta just shrugs, not batting an eyelash.

"We thought it's what you'd want us to do. It seemed like an easy chase."

And when Abernathy looks at Peeta like he's got three heads, Katniss can't take it any longer.

"He's lying," she chimes in, looking at Peeta with a quizzical stare.

"It's my fault. I jumped out of the car. I went after them. Peeta just went after me. If Peeta hadn't stopped me, I'd probably have gotten hit."

She can't let Peeta take the blame. Because it's all hers. And she should have fessed up in the first place.

She's expecting Abernathy to scream at her.

But Abernathy just listens, with that slightly intrigued expression, and only shakes his head and tells them to call it a night and head back in.

And even when Katniss protests, saying they need to help the team with the scene— who are already searching the car for anything of value and dusting for prints, Abernathy refuses.

"Go home, Everdeen. And we'll continue this discussion in the morning."

She stares at her instructor, trying to figure out why he isn't angrier with her. Though she's aware she's still obviously in trouble, she's used to Abernathy blowing up at his agents; he enjoys eviscerating them in front of their peers.

"Do you want me to go with her?" Peeta asks, now stuck in an awkward place between them. And probably in a little bit of trouble himself, having tried to lie to him.

Agent Abernathy sighs, shaking his head reluctantly.

"Yeah, okay. Make sure she doesn't get herself—or anyone else—killed on the way."

Katniss huffs, scowling at Haymitch as he turns to leave.

But she sees Peeta glance her way before calling out to Abernathy, stopping him.

"You know, for what it's worth, I'd have done the same thing if I were driving."

Abernathy stares at them for a beat, shaking his head again. But Katniss thinks she sees a smirk on his lips.

"Yeah, well, like I said, you're both morons."

And then it's just them again in the deserted alley, as Katniss watches Abnernathy make his way back to the rest of their team before turning back to him.

Peeta's looking at her wearily.

"Are you okay?"

Katniss exhales and shakes her head.

No. She's not okay.

She's all sorts of fucked up right now.

Peeta, her rival, her only real competition, just tried to throw himself on the sword for her. For no reason. She knows she'd been the total fuck up. She'd almost gotten them pretend-killed. He should be gloating.

But instead, he had her back.

And she's pretty sure she had his, too.

They've never had each other's backs before.

When Peeta sees the look on her face, he frowns.

"C'mon, let's get you out of here," he half tells, half asks, his voice low.

She bites her bottom lip and nods, looking at him slowly. It's probably for the best to head home now—she'd be useless on scene anyway, too busy trying to figure out what the hell just happened. _ Is_ happening.

Peeta quirks an eyebrow, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Just, uh, I'll drive this time."

* * *

The ride back to the intake lot is quiet, too quiet. Even for Katniss.

The air between them has shifted, and she's not sure what to do with it.

And when Peeta Mellark doesn't know what to say, it must mean he's unsure too.

It's not until after they've turned in the police car that Peeta finally speaks up about it. They're headed to to Peeta's own personal car, him insisting he drive her home even though she's just blocks away. She doesn't put up a fight about it, though, and they walk down the quiet, deserted street where his car's parked when he shoves his hands in his pockets, stopping their steps, like this is important enough to deserve their full attention.

"You didn't have to do that, Katniss."

She knows she didn't have to own up to her mistakes, because Peeta would have gladly taken the fall. Even though he doesn't owe her a thing.

Katniss sighs.

"Yes I did. I can't let you get in trouble for something I did."

"_We_ did."

Peeta corrects her quickly.

She furrows her brow. _We_. Like they were a real team or something.

"Why were you covering for me back there?"

He shrugs, his hands coming out of his pockets as he does.

"Because fuck protocol, okay?"

His voice takes on an unexpected intensity and he seems almost upset, which is a rarity for cool, calm, and collected Agent Mellark.

"And you're a great Agent, Katniss. Impulsive and impatient maybe, but _great_. And I wanted you to know that I have your back."

And then Peeta's looking at her like _that_ again, and suddenly she's remembering the feeling of his weight on her, his hands touching her, the tingle of his breath on her ear.

So as he opens his mouth to keep going, clearly intending to explain himself further, Katniss puts up a hand to stop him.

Because she doesn't want his words.

She wants his lips.

Needs them, even.

Right now, on the empty street a half block from the FBI building at two in the morning.

So she takes the two steps it takes to get to him, instinctively reaching for his tie, tugging it and pulling Peeta in, not stopping until his mouth is on hers and she's kissing him.

If he's surprised by her actions, he doesn't show it.

His lips are warm, and firm, and they taste a little like those stupid sour gummy candies. But she relishes in the way Peeta kisses her back with insistence, and in the eagerness of his hands, which slide to the small of her back. Where he digs his fingers in, like a signal that he's not going anywhere.

Which is fine with her, because she's more than okay with him staying right where he is—flush up against her, exhaling a hot breath onto her lips before his tongue slips its way into her mouth.

Her hands find the back of his neck, with fingers tucking themselves into the tendrils of hair there, holding his face tightly to hers, sighing into him at his continued touches—with his lips, his hands, his sturdiness.

Peeta finally breaks, coming up for air and a devilish gaze of appreciation. Katniss smiles sheepishly, suddenly very aware that she's just kissed Agent Mellark.

And by the way he's looking at her, she knows she's in trouble with more than just Agent Abernathy.

* * *

His apartment is clean. Sterile, really. And dark. Peeta doesn't even bother turning the lights on, too busy with worrying the soft skin of her neck with his lips and teeth, brushing the collar of her suit jacket out of his way with his hand until Katniss manages to shrug it off her shoulders.

It falls, entirely forgotten, in a heap on the floor of his entryway as they stumble their way further into his apartment.

Her fingers rake through his dirty blonde tresses as his mouth moves to her now-exposed collarbone, peppering it with kisses as his hands guide her hips to follow him in his careless steps.

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted you?" Peeta murmurs into her skin, fully immersed in his work, sucking, licking, teasing as his mouth moves back to her neck.

Heat rushes through her, pooling in the pit of her stomach, where it morphs into a throb between her legs.

Katniss bucks her hips into him as they move, and she can feel his burgeoning erection against herself, sucking in a breath.

"No," she manages to answer, tilting her neck for his mouth as her hands move from the back of his head around and down the length of his chest, her fingers slipping into the fabric of his dress shirt, curling and tugging just hard enough to show him that she wants him too.

He nips the nape of her neck with his teeth before answering.

Growling, really.

"A really long fucking time, Kantiss."

She moans, and he covers the sound as he captures her lips again, holding her chin, thumbing her jawline and working over her mouth thoroughly.

They're slowly working their way into his bedroom, somewhere between his living area and the doorway, bypassing all pleasantries—no couch, no awkward television noise in the background, no offering of a drink or a glass of water.

Because all of that is unnecessary. Unwanted.

Who knew she'd want Peeta Mellark so badly herself.

He grants her lips a reprieve, already feeling hot and swollen, breaking to hurriedly tug at his tie, yanking it over his own head before pawing at her shirt, pulling the base of her camisole from the waistband of her pants, his fingers on her bare skin warm as they slide slowly up her abdomen, letting her tug the shirt off the rest of the way.

He's rewarded with a lacy black bra, and the heat in his eyes, which glimmer with heady gratitude, makes Katniss smirk.

And under his steady gaze, she slips out of her pants with little effort, letting him take her in in just her bra and matching lacy underwear.

"Just like you imagined?"

Peeta's eyes narrow, taking her in carefully. Like he's studying her.

Katniss likes how he looks when he's focused. Whether it's on the details of a case file or her state of undress. His face is hardened. The line of his jaw stern. Eyes dark.

"Even better," he answers against her lips as he begins a string of maddeningly sensual kisses that take her breath away and make her fingernails sink into the tight muscles of his back.

Peeta's clothes come off quickly after that, leaving a trail behind into his bedroom until they stop at the the edge of his neatly made bed. Peeta nudges her onto it with hungry lips and roaming hands, cupping the swell of her breast in his hand as he follows her down onto it, thumbing it over the lacy demi cup edge as he nimbly works the clasp of her bra with the other hand.

He exhales, taking in her naked breasts with his eyes, and then his mouth, and Katniss instantly presses herself into him. She can feel his grin on her sensitive skin; and Peeta sighs against her when she trails her own hands to the waistband of his boxer briefs, allowing them to appreciate his bare chest and solid abdomen first.

They lay on their sides, pulling into each other's nearly naked bodies, and Katniss dips her chin into his jaw, kissing it's line as he begins to suck her, scraping his teeth gently over her nipple, causing her to gasp his name.

Peeta pulls his mouth off her breast, staring at her with an expression that suggests a thousand more ways he'd like to make her do that. He licks his lips before leaning in for another kiss, his hand ghosting over her skin until he gets to the lace of her thong, deftly pushing it aside and driving a finger into her without hesitation.

She's so wet it easily slips in. And out. And in again, as she flutters her eyes closed, melting into his touch. He begins to work a rhythm, pumping her slowly, _too_ slowly as his lips find the nook of her neck.

A hum escapes her lips, and she lets him touch her, selfishly concentrating on herself, half of him hovering over her, his lips working her shoulder while his fingers move on to her clit.

"Fuck, Peeta," she hisses, because really, while the foreplay is nice—fantastic, really—she's clearly more than ready for him.

Her hands greedily reach for him, any part of him—but he stops her.

"Let me, first."

And he grins that impish grin, so confident and sure of himself.

He tugs her panties down her legs, settling himself between them, spreading her knees as she hitches her breath in anticipation.

And Katniss quickly learns Agent Peeta Mellark's tongue can manipulate a hell of a lot more than words.

His mouth blows gently, his teeth nip ever so slightly, and his tongue, oh god his _tongue_.

She writhes in pleasure from it, until he stops only to readjust their positioning, gripping her waist and pulling her down the length of the bed, settling himself at the end of it, hooking her legs over his shoulders for deeper, better access.

He works her eagerly, combining a finger to help with what his tongue can't do. And it's too much. She's going to come. If he just keeps his fingers moving inside of her and his tongue right _there_, pressed against her clit, flicking.

"Oh god, Peeta, please," she cries, digging her fingers into the cool, crisp sheets of his once neatly made bed. Her heels press against his shoulder blades, arching herself into his mouth just slightly, her body involuntarily—embarrassingly really—reacting to him.

He stops, looking up at her with those hopelessly blue eyes, full of desire. And pride.

"Does it feel good?" His voice is low and husky, impossible to withstand.

And he knows it feels good.

And yet, he's stopped.

She wriggles underneath him, but Peeta stills her with his hands, and lightly feathers her inner thigh with kisses, working his way to her stomach, his shining eyes still focused on her. It's sweet, maybe, but that's not what they're here for. She needs him. Now.

And he just smiles at her confused expression when he pulls up further, shaking his head at her knowingly.

"Tonight, Everdeen, you learn a lesson in patience."

Her mouth drops, and Peeta chuckles at her gape, pulling himself back up to her on the bed. Settling in next to her, brushing the loose strands fallen from her braid aside to kiss her neck gently as he explains.

"I told you this was going to be an all-nighter."

* * *

And for as long as Peeta made her wait that first night, the sex comes hard and fast after that.

They can't keep their hands off each other.

They sleep at his place. And define the term _sleep_ loosely.

And any chance they can get, they sneak off to her apartment, a short two minute walk from the FBI's campus, careful to return to work separately and inconspicuously. Although there's really nothing Katniss can do for the newfound flush in her cheeks.

They continue to work on their respective case studies, spending time with their different teams, and their hours grow longer with the final push to finish their training projects. They're overly careful not to acknowledge one another at work at all, at least not any differently than they ever had before. Except now when she passes Peeta in the hallways, or spots him in the cafeteria lounge, on top of scowling at him or ignoring him completely, Katniss also has to fight the urge to comb her fingers through his blonde locks and pretend like he hasn't just fucked her hours before.

And she knows that what she and Peeta are doing is stupid and reckless, and she's in constant fear of being found out. Not just because it could result in discipline for them, or at least certain embarrassment, but because it would mean everyone would finally know she has a weakness.

And his name is Peeta Mellark.

But when words like _beautiful_ and _want_ and_ need _and _more_ fall from Peeta's lips, whispered against her skin or spoken into the ceiling as they lay splayed between his sheets, it's impossible for her to stop.

Because he's fun. And playful. Compassionate. So incredibly smart. And sexy.

And he's capable of breaking her, making her fall into a million pieces, only hoping she can put herself back together again.

Until inevitably, she does, and they do it all over again.

But they're still competitive—and too often, pillow talks turns into shop talk, arguing over strategy, sometimes trying to help the other with their case, other times just trying to prove the other is going about it all wrong.

She likes the passion behind it though. And the unpredictability of whether Peeta will grin in awe of her and call her a genius for coming up with a new lead for him on his case or vehemently tell her that even the _fake_ idea of her attempting to befriend the strippers they suspect are part of her human trafficking sting by posing as one herself is the dumbest thing he's ever heard.

Even Katniss has to admit that one wasn't well thought out.

She still hates that he's usually right.

But she's trying to get used to it.

And Peeta helps her when she needs to stay up all night studying complicated diagrams with too many names, trying to get to the center of the trafficking ring when there's only two days left until her project's deadline. And he's half the reason she's able to figure it out at three o'clock that morning, kissing him excitedly, proclaiming she just _knew_ it had to be the seemingly innocent strip club bartender all along. Even though she hadn't known for sure until Peeta'd gently nudged her back in that direction, and she's able to piece together the suspicious bank account in the bartender's mother's name, the multiple overseas plane tickets he supposedly bought to visit his home country, and the small, almost invisible camera system he has set up on each corner of his home that Peeta finally points out when she's revisiting investigation photos.

It makes her the hero of her task force the next day when they're able to secure a search warrant for his home and find three girls—well, blow up dolls meant to be girls—in a locked room at the back of his basement.

Katniss almost feels guilty for enlisting Peeta's help unbeknownst to the rest of her team, but she figures it'll all even out because although he doesn't know it yet, she's about to help Peeta too.

Just while fucking with him a little bit along the way.

* * *

Katniss had pitched the initial idea to Agent Abernathy as an extra credit opportunity of sorts when he met with her the following morning after the stake out. He'd sat her down in his office first to properly scold her for going against about 20 different standard agency procedures, making sure she understood, and good, that the first rule of being on a task force is _not going rogue._

And after, when she'd asked if there was anything she could do to make it up him, he'd studied her carefully at first, letting her squirm a little in her seat before sighing.

"Actually, there is. And it'll be good training for you, too."

Abernathy began by telling her that it might be a good idea if she role-played for some of the case studies, explaining that not only will it help her understand where her suspects and witnesses are coming from, but that it would help her learn how to act differently for different situations.

And give her a taste of what it might be like to go undercover.

Immediately, Katniss knew what case study she wanted on, but she had to wait for Abernathy to finish explaining.

"I shouldn't be telling you this yet, Agent Everdeen. But I'm tapping you for a special assignment once you graduate. It's dangerous and highly complex, and I need you to be able to follow the rules, no matter what. You'll likely spend months covertly working with some of the biggest criminals in the country."

Her eyes had gone wide then; it sounded important and exciting and like more than she could have ever hoped for.

"So what do you say?"

Katniss had grinned, hoping she hadn't seemed too eager.

"Yes."

He'd nodded slowly, unsmiling, but a prideful look in his eye had given his thoughts away.

"And I know which case study I want on," she'd continued, not wanting to give Abernathy the chance to suggest something else.

He agreed to it almost too easily when she suggested the idea to him.

"You wanna be the black widow, huh?" he'd said with a smirk.

She'd nodded.

"Well, I guess if anyone can finally get under Mellark's skin, it'll probably be you."

She'd grinned to herself, now, more than ever, fully aware of her ability to ruffle Peeta Mellark.

"And I guess it won't hurt to pair you off again," Abernathy continued.

Under her quizzical look, he revealed that he was recruiting Peeta too. So he needed to know that she'd be able to play nice with him. Which had been the reasoning behind their pairing last night.

Playing nice with Peeta had been her real test.

"Turns out with your little protecting each other bit, you'd passed with flying colors."

Katniss had bit back a laugh at that, wondering what Abernathy would do if he knew just how _nice_ she and Peeta had played the night before.

And then he gave her the black widow case file, telling her to study up and to go ahead and do a real number on him.

Also not a problem.

* * *

So, on the morning of Peeta's big interrogation, she kisses him sweetly and wishes him good luck, assuring him he'll do great.

He's none the wiser for it, wondering, since her case study's complete and she doesn't have any outstanding assignments, how she plans on spending her day.

They're at her door, having spent the night at her place for once, because Peeta'd been up late preparing with Hawthorne and had wanted a bed close by to crash in.

Katniss straightens his tie, patting him lightly on the chest when it's to her liking with a smile.

"I'll probably just be hanging around, waiting for you to have your way with me."

He arches a brow seductively, this time leaning in to kiss her.

"Sounds like fun. I'll call you once I get back to my place?"

She shrugs, casually accepting his suggestion.

And then as he turns to leave, half way out the door, she calls out to him, wanting to leave him with one last bit of advice.

"Just remember, she's deadly, so don't be afraid to go in for the kill with her."

Peeta looks at her, slightly confused, most likely wondering why she's giving _him_ interrogation advice, since he's the best in their class at it and it's kind of like him telling her the best way to shoot a gun. But he grins at her nonetheless, with a playful wink.

"You should know better than anyone that I always go in for the kill, Everdeen."

She does know.

But before she lets him, she's planning on inflicting a slow, sweet torture of her own.


End file.
